


That Which is Repeated

by mikeymagee



Category: Avengers (Comics), Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Fate & Destiny, Gen, Screw Destiny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-20 15:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2433506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikeymagee/pseuds/mikeymagee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers have a routine. A cycle that gets them through the day. While some hold onto it, Loki does everything he can to be rid of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate Agent of Asgard coming out next week I've written another fic. It's already written and it's 6 chapters long. I will update it daily, so by the time the new issue comes out, all chapters will be poster :)

Tony Stark had seen a lot of things in his life: a giant robot bent on world annihilation, a thunder god with a strange affinity for coffee, a mild mannered man transforming onto a green monster. But, he never expected to see a pint sized God of mischief in a supermarket.

It was midday, just a little after lunch. The market was nearly empty, no afternoon shoppers, or college kids around. Just the occasional old man trying to find the soup aisle. Tony hadn't seen Loki since his little stint at Avengers Tower a few weeks ago. Tony rubbed the back of his neck, remembering how Banner's better half smashed him through his own wall.

And it was all because of that little punk.

I should go over there, Tony thought. Maybe get some Intel, see what he's up to.

He really wished Natasha was here. She was good at that kind of crap. He was more the rock star, the showboat, the genius billionaire philanthropist with the awesome goatee. Still, it never hurt to try.

Tony sauntered into the aisle, loosening his tie, and watching Loki for any sudden movements. Loki had a small hand basket at his side, filled with flour, sugar, milk, and little sprinkles that kids would put on top of their cupcakes. How adorable.

But when it comes to Loki, appearances are always deceiving. Just looking at him is proof enough of that. At first he was some old man, wrinkled and bitter with a crazed gleam in his eyes. Then some child…and now a boy band member. Tony tapped the center of his Avengers ID badge (a little upgrade he had been tinkering with), it recorded everything within a five mile radius. You could never be too careful when it came to Loki.

"Baking a cake?" Tony asked, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

With one smooth motion, Loki turned to look behind him. His face was young, but his eyes betrayed him every time. There was something ancient lurking beneath his green irises, something worn and tired.

"Man of Iron, hello," Loki said. He scooted his basket closer to him. "Actually, yes. I am baking a cake. How did you know?"

Tony looked down at Loki's basket. "Lucky guess." Tony reached down and examined the sugar Loki had purchased. "Who knew the God of Mischief had an eye for baking."

Loki chuckled. It was strange. Before, whenever Tony heard that laugh there was always a foreboding aura to it. Dark and deep like the bottom of a sink hole. But now, that laugh was light and airy like a sponge cake.

"Actually, it's not really for me. I promised a friend I'd bake her a cake. She kind of helped me out of a jam recently…it's also an apology cake."

What a strange word coming from his mouth. 'Friend', of course, Loki's definition of 'Friend' normally meant someone he could manipulate and discard when he was done with her. Tony felt bad for Loki's 'Friend'

"Interesting. You know, I couldn't help but notice the last time you…uh…visited our tower-"

Loki's face lit up like a firefly's ass, "Oh yes, that was quite fun. I do hope I didn't cause too much trouble," his face slid down into a small sneer. Not malicious, but mischievous, as if he were a kid who pulled off a great prank. "If you want, I could help pay for damages."

"No no no, that's quite alright," Tony didn't want this kid anywhere near his tower again, "But I did notice after your little visit some files went missing."

It was almost routine. Loki broke into Avengers tower, stabbed Thor in the chest and then escaped as if he were never there. Of course, Thor did try to explain to the entire team that Loki only did what he did for Thor's own good. There was some kind of—what did Thor call it?—malicious spirit hiding inside his soul, and Loki was kind enough to remove it.

By shoving a sword through his brother's chest.

But that didn't explain why he was in the tower's computer room, or why he hacked into the files (or how he did it) and why he removed every single file on himself. What was he after?

"Oh," Loki feigned surprise. "Which files?"

"Files on you" Tony said. "And it's not just that. Avenger Tower files are liked to every database in the world…so now, it's virtually like you never existed. But then again, you already knew that, didn't you?" Tony crossed his arms, the time for playing games was over, "I want to know why."

Loki shrugged his shoulders and grabbed a box of baking soda. "I didn't like the picture."

"That's bullshit."

"No it's true. I mean come on! The only pictures that exist of me are of a wrinkled old man? Come on now," Loki smiled and pointed to his new face, "Do I look like a wrinkled old man to you?"

"No, you look like a twelve year old."

The lights overhead began to flicker, on and off on and off. The slow squeak of shopping cart wheels echoed down the empty aisles. Footsteps rose and fell like rain drops. And for a split second, Loki's lip began to quiver. His eyes glazed over, lost in a silent memory.

But he wiped it away, too quick to notice.

"And they say I make bad jokes," Loki said.

There was something there…something hidden deep beneath his new skin, and boy band hair. A secret shame, and Achilles heel that could topple this giant…

But then again, Tony wasn't even sure he was the same giant any more.

"You know," Tony began, "This is the longest time we've talked without you trying to kill me."

"Really? Well, I'm afraid I'll have to take your word for it."

"What do you mean," Tony asked. There was nothing Tony loved more than a puzzle. Even when Loki was…well, Loki…he was still a tapestry of unanswered questions and false starts. It was infuriating, but at the same time it was exciting. A puzzle for the great Tony Stark to solve. Why give the puzzle another crack, huh?

"I don't really remember too much of the past. Not really. People tell me I hated Thor. I don't remember that, but it's told so frequently that I cannot help but believe it."

No matter how many times Thor told them that this was Loki, Tony still had a hard time believing it. Loki was a madman who created plans upon plans. Not some kid who bought flour and baked apology cakes. Loki was a madden god who would stop at nothing to quench his power lust. Not some twenty-something who shopped at the grocery store.

And Tony, before he could even think or take his words back, he asked. "What happened to you?"

But Loki shrugged, grabbed his basket and stood. "I died." He brushed the dirt off his jeans and turned down the aisle. "Well, it was wonderful speaking with you Man of Iron, but I have a cake I have to bake and a friend I need to thank/apologize to." He dipped his head slightly, and disappeared deeper into the store.


	2. Steve Rogers

Routine. Ever since Steve Rogers was thawed out, all he had to go on was his routine. Wake up, go for a run through central park. Come home, have breakfast and go over Avengers files. Begin training, go on patrol, and argue with Tony. Nice and easy. No surprises, no unwanted guests, just a simple routine. 

Just like every day, Steve woke up, got dressed and went running through central park. Not much changes day after day. The same trees waved in the wind, the same pavement pounded against his sneakers as he ran. 

“Come on, say it again.” 

“Really Verity? This is the fourth time I’ve said this.”

“I know, but I never get tired of hearing you say it Loki.” 

Loki?

He stopped. Steve scanned the area. It was probably nothing, after all, nowadays people like to name their kids all sorts of crazy things. Like North, Apple, even Blanket (well, if the internet was to be trusted). Someone having the name Loki shouldn’t be too out of the ordinary. But it never hurts to be certain. 

Steve listened, and heard a muffled laughter coming from the east, the place were old men and women feed the birds, and sometimes the kids go there to…be alone. 

“It’s probably nothing.” Steve jogged to the east, and held his breath. He hoped it was nothing. But coming up over the ridge, sat two young people. A young woman with tattoos all over her arms, glasses hanging off her nose, and hair that fell down to her T-shirt.

And next to her sat Loki. Thor’s Loki. The God of mischief himself. 

“Loki,” Steve whispered. He ducked behind some nearby bushes, hoping Loki hadn’t noticed him just yet. 

“Fine fine fine,” Loki raised his hands, “You are Verity the Brave and Clever, and I am Loki the worm. You are the truest hero that the nine realms has ever seen and without you I would be nothing.”

The young woman smiled. “No lies detected.” 

Crap…Loki was up to his old tricks no doubt. But how he managed to snare that young woman into his scheme, Steve did not know, but he was going to find out. 

Slowly, like a soldier through enemy territory, Steve made his way to the bench. Loki was a master of misdirection, his stunt at the Tower proved that much. He couldn’t just leap and attack, Loki hadn’t done anything wrong (yet) and with a witness on his side proving Loki of any wrong doing would be difficult. He had to play his cards right.

So, he approached, and spoke.

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice shakier than usual. Perhaps it was Loki’s lady friend, it always amazed Steve how people could get so many tattoos like that. Or perhaps, it was just the shake of his routine. He wasn’t used to his daily run being interrupted; or maybe it was Loki himself. 

“Captain Rogers.” Loki slightly glanced to his friend next to him. Almost afraid of what was going to happen next.

So, Loki must not have told this girl who he really was, and if that were the case, then clearly he had some kind of stake in her. Some plan he didn’t want revealed. Same old Loki, using people as if they were toys.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Steve said, approaching slowly, like a cautioned animal. He knew Loki, every smile, every head tilt, every lie, was the foundation for another scheme. But this one would end before it even began. 

“Yes. It’s been about two weeks now, hasn’t it?” Loki nudged his friend’s arm, “Captain this is my friend and all around BFF Verity Willis. Verity, this is Captain Steve Rogers, no doubt you’ve heard of him."

Verity nodded, “Oh yeah, my dad’s a big fan. He even has a Captain America tie.” 

Steve laughed at that, he didn’t know that had ties. Perhaps he could get Coulson one for his birthday…

“Loki, you never told me you knew Captain America,” Verity said as she punched him in his arm.

Loki shrugged, “It never came up.” And turned to Captain Rogers, “So what brings you here?” Loki patted the bench, an invitation for Steve to it down.

Steve just waved it away. “Just out jogging, I didn’t know you had a friend with you.”

Loki laughed at that, “Honestly Captain, I’m not as anti-social as you would have others believe.”

Steve cocked his eyebrow, “You used to be.” 

Loki’s smile faded like the stench of gunpowder from the battlefield, “Yes, well, I used to be a lot of things.” 

“I’ve noticed…but you know the old saying, it’s not like a leopard to change its spots.” Steve said. This was chess, each word and phrase was another move. But it was strange...Loki was never this rusty. 

“Well, let’s hope that old axiom is fictional,” Loki said, and under his breath, he added, “For all of our sakes.” 

There it was again. Another small kernel of information. A small hint into the inner workings of a madman’s mind. It was almost as if he were giving it away, chucking it at Steve’s head like bread to a pigeon. 

Was it a trick? Misdirection? Steve couldn’t be sure. 

“So…how do you two know each other?” Steve asked, hoping to bring the attention back to Loki’s acquaintance.

“We met speed dating,” Verity said, jumping into the conversation. “You know how it is.” 

“Speed Dating?” Steve tried not to laugh. The idea of Loki going from table to table, trying to impress women with his silver tongue, just like a normal person. But still, Steve had a duty to the innocent, this girl did not know who she was dealing with. She had to be warned…somehow.

“Well, the thing about speed dating,” Steve began, “is that people aren’t always who they say they are.” Steve stared straight into Loki’s eyes, as if to say, “I know who you are and you won’t get away.”

“Are we talking about Loki being the God of Mischief, having Thor as a brother, and being kind of a liar? Because if that’s what you’re alluding to then yeah….I already know that.” 

It was as if someone had punched Steve in the face, “W-what?”

“Yeah,” Verity said, “He told me.”

That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Loki tell her? What exactly would he have to gain? What the hell was his game?

“Then you know he can’t be trusted. He lies all the ti-“

“Woah woah woah,” Verity said, “Listen, I know what you’re trying to say, and I appreciate it, but I don’t like the way you’re talking about my friend here.”

Loki tried to speak, “Verity, it’s alright-“

“Shut up Loki,” she turned back to Steve, “Just because you have the American flag on your chest, that doesn’t give you the right to pass judgment on someone else.”

Alright, this was getting out of hand. “Ma’am, listen. I know he’s probably given you quite the sob-story, but if you know him like I know him then you’d understand where I’m coming from.” This young lady was quite the firecracker. 

Loki cleared his throat, “Verity, I appreciate your support but-“

“Shut up Loki.” Verity was standing now, “Last time I checked this was the country of second chances, so why deny Loki that? He’s trying to change and all you guys are doing is waiting for him to fuck up so you can turn around and say ‘Ha! I told you so’. You always say you want people, criminals and evil doers, to change and become better, but what’s point of having that ideal if you don’t even believe in it?” Verity tugged at Loki’s arm and brought the young God to his feet. “From where I’m standing, Loki might be the God of Lies, but you’re the one who’s the liar.”

She pulled on Loki’s sleeve and the two walked off into the park, leaving Steve to stew in Verity’s words. No one had talked to Steve that way since he was a kid. She was strong, but Steve knew Loki was stronger. 

Loki, no matter what form he took, was one who broke routine. He sewed discord for fun, and when his fun was over, he'd plot to do it all over again. 

A friend? Loki doesn't do friends. From the moment Steve had met Loki, everything about him was a lie. You can't build a friendship on that. There must have been some kind of spell on her, an enchantment. 

For whatever reason, Loki must be using her.

Whatever hold he had on her, Steve would find a way to break it. Steve felt like he owed her that much. No one should be forced into a destiny they do not want. Everyone deserved the ability to choose their own path...and Steve would not allow Loki to steal that right away. 

Steve propped his hoodie over his head. 

 

“Loki won't win.” 

Steve took a deep breath, shook out his limbs, and returned to his routine.


	3. Natasha Romanov

It was routine really. Sneak into the enemy's stronghold, grab the Intel and get out. Espionage 101. But Natasha Romanov knew that it was never that simple. The mission wasn't too difficult to pull off. Apparently HYDRA had created a hotel as a front. No one knew why, but it was her job to figure it out.

Routine.

She snuck in, passed herself off as an employee. A maid, someone beneath others' notice, and could get in and out of any room without suspicion. Natasha walked down the Hotel hallways, her cart rumbled as she moved past. She hated it. She hated the sound of unnecessary risk. Any noise, any dropped pen, anything that could jeopardize her mission…was something she didn't need.

All the rooms in the hotels looked the same. Old doors that led to people's unmade beds, and left over food. Jesus, people were such pigs sometimes.

But this was not her mission. She was here to grab Intel and get out. She cleaned the rooms, dusted the banisters and walked out. Nothing of interest in there. She moved to the next. Same thing. And the one after that, and the one after that.

Until…

She rapped her knuckles against the room door, "Hello?"

No answer. She took out her key card, swiped it through the door and entered.

She froze. Her eyes widened at the sight of the God of Mischief, laying on his stomach with his feet in the air.

"What the hell?" she said.

Within seconds, she had pushed her cart the other side of the room, slammed the door to keep others out of the line of fire, and pulled out her stingers. She knew Loki, the best way to stop him was to keep him off balance.

"Oh, hello Lady Natasha," he said, flipping through the channels.

"I'm going to give you three seconds to explain what you're doing here." Her voice was like acid, straight to the point with no room for flourishing. When you're a spy, you learn that extra can lead to your death. It's better to move quickly than to doddle.

"Uh…" Loki placed the remote down, and sat up onto his bed, Indian style. "Well…at the moment, I'm watching cartoons."

Strange, Loki seemed just as surprised to see Natasha as she was to see him. This was something she could exploit. Maybe Loki was in league with HYDRA? It wouldn't be the first time he'd used their enemies for his own gain.

"What do you know about HYDRA?"

He rolled his eyes, he almost looked annoyed at the question. "A lot less than you, I'm sure."

"Cut the crap Loki." Natasha held her stinger to Loki's nose, "It'd be ashamed to mess up your pretty new face." Hopefully this Loki would react to the threat. Granted, he'd taken a Hulk fist to the face, and only walked away with a black eye. Her stingers wouldn't even scratch him, but hopefully, this new Loki wouldn't know that.

"Lady Natasha, is there a reason you're here? You know, besides annoying innocent hotel guests?" He grabbed the remote again and started flipping through the channels, and stopped on an old television show called Big Wolf on Campus.

"I'm asking the questions here," she said. "You broke into SHIELD HQ, incapacitated one of our top agents, an-"

"Woah. Hold on." Loki raised his hands, "All I did was lock Phil in a cage, it's not like I stabbed him in the chest or anything."

She scowled and continued, "You stole the one of the five keys, broke into Avengers Tower, and-"

"Lady Natasha does this have a point? I'm trying to watch my show here."

God…he was so flippant. Arrogance, it was the one thing about Loki that never changed. No matter what form he took.

"I'm taking you into SHIELD custody." She moved in closer, "Get up."

Loki merely raised his hands, "Alright, we can do that. But if you do, you'll probably lose out on whatever information you were trying to get before you ran into me. I may not know much, but I do know that when it comes to The Black Widow time is of the essence, and you hate to have your time wasted."

Same old Loki.

Natasha placed her stingers down, he was right. Loki probably didn't know anything, and the more time she wasted with him, the less time she had to complete her mission. Damn it.

She didn't feel right about leaving him here to cause whatever havoc was stewing in his mind. Even if she did call SHIELD in, he would probably be gone before they arrived.

"This isn't over," she said.

Loki reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. A small thing that glistened in the lamp light. It had a Norse rune carved onto its hilt. "I do believe," Loki began, "That this is the very same key I borrowed from SHIELD."

"You mean stole," Natasha said.

He handed it to her, "Here, it's all yours."

Natasha reached out her hand to grab the key…but then stopped. What was his ploy this time? Natasha knew this guy's tricks. Everything he did had a purpose, some kind of magical element meant to ensnare.

"And what's this? Some kind of trap?" she asked.

"No…it's a peace offering."

"What makes you think I'm gonna fall for this?" she asked. Loki couldn't really think she was this stupid. Loki didn't know the meaning of the word "Peace". Poor sap couldn't even find peace of mind. "The Loki I know…that everyone knows…wouldn't know what peace was if it ripped off his stupid horned helmet."

Loki raised his chin, defiant and proud. He was arrogant, but there was something different about it. People always thought it was the eyes that gave away people's intentions…but that was just Hollywood shit. It was really the body. Where Loki used to tilt his head in a mocking sneer, he now raised his chin in a proud rebellion. Where Loki used to sulk in a desperate hue, he now stood straight in a new glaze. "Maybe I'm not the Loki you knew."

Who was this guy?

Loki slipped the key in Natasha's hand, "Also, you might wanna check out the pool area at night. Apparently it's off limits to guests…" he shrugged, "But hey, what do I know, right?"

He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

Natasha rolled her cart back to the hallway.

"The pool?"

Well, this could all be a trap. A misdirect that could blow up in her face. It was Loki who gave her the tip…but still. It was a lead.

She pocketed the key and rolled her cart down to the next room.


	4. Bruce Banner

The library was becoming an important part of Bruce Banner's routine. He'd wake up, drink tea (never caffeine), practice his breathing exercises, do Yoga, and go to the library to enjoy the peace and quiet.

At first, he never felt like he shouldn't be there. What if he lost his temper? What the Hulk came smashing through his skin and wrecked the entire place. What then? Then his carefully crafted routine, his simple steps, would all be gone.

Again.

He took a deep breath and walked inside the library. No, he wouldn't allow himself to be frightened off by what could be. He had a system, a habit that kept him stable. The Hulk was not going to take that away from him.

The library was always quiet early in the morning. It was mostly used by old men who wanted to creep on young college girls…sometimes he wished he could get angry about things, just so he could tell off jerks.

But even one slip up could be so disastrous for those around him. Hopefully, that wouldn't be an issue this morning.

He grabbed a dusty old book from the Physics section, found a seat and thumbed through it. An old routine. Learning and relearning what he already knew.

"It is not dying…" Came a young voice…a male's actually. Possibly in his twenties (perhaps a little older, who knew?)

Bruce grumbled beneath his breath, "Stupid kids." Sometimes college kids would come her to chew on shrooms, or make out with their girlfriends. It was noisy, it was loud, and it made Bruce wish he didn't have the Hulk just so he could be allowed to get pissed.

"Here we are," the voice said. Was this one of those kids who had to say everything out loud? One of those youngsters who probably take selfies of themselves, post it online, and then wait for others to gawk. So in love with their own voices that they don't allow others the simplicity of quiet.

Bruce turned to the young man behind him, "Excuse me…" and the he froze.

Loki. Not the old Loki who rained fire down on the earth more times than Bruce cared to remember. What the hell was he doing here?

Bruce had to think. He couldn't risk starting a fight here, not in the library with innocent people lurking about. The Hulk wouldn't know friend from foe. He couldn't just up and confront him. That would be stupider than Tony trying to reason with Ultron. No, he had to be smart. Loki liked to talk, so maybe he could buy some time. Not only that, The Hulk is one of the few weapons the Avengers had that could take down Loki…so if worse came to worse…he could talk big and probably scare Loki off.

Bruce took a deep breath…he'd have to find a new library to go to. He closed his book, and turned back to Loki. The God of Mischief had selected a book on Latverian Philosophy and was flipping through it.

"It is not dying," he said again.

What did that mean?

"Hey, kid, if you wanna talk could you do it outside?" Bruce said…he was beginning to sound more and more like Tony every day. Damn, he had to move out of that tower.

Loki turned to see Bruce Banner, the keeper of The Hulk, behind him. "Hello Dr. Banner. Funny meeting you here." Loki kept his voice low. He may have been a maniacal nut job, but at least his manners were improving.

"What are you doing here Loki?" It was more of a statement (a violent one) than a question. A jab to the heart valve. Right to the point.

"I'm looking for knowledge. Is that not why people come here?" he said. Loki flipped through the book he had chosen, and then placed it back with a dissatisfied grunt.

"What? They don't have any books on ruling the world?" Bruce asked again. That's right, just keep talking. Buy as much time as possible. Of course, Bruce had no idea what he was doing when it came to crap like this. Loki was—for lack of a better term—batshit crazy. This was the guy who had back up plans for his back up plans, and even when it looked like he had lost, he still won. Who knew what he was planning.

"Dr. Banner," he asked, "how is it possible to die without dying?"

Great…another one of his stupid riddles. Bruce folded his arms, he wasn't going to fall for any of Loki's crap. "You should know. I mean, you died didn't you? And yet here you are."

Loki chuckled, "Forgive me Doctor, what I meant was, in human ideals, how is it possible for a person to die and yet not die?"

Bruce stepped back. "You're not making any sense, kid."

Funny, Loki was possibly the oldest thing in this entire building, possibly in the entire city (seeing as Thor was on the moon somewhere).

Loki ran his hand through his hair, "I had a visit with Doom a few days ago, and he said something to me. 'It is not dying'. He said he wanted to 'remove' me, but without killing me. Is that some kind of Midgardian saying?" Loki's eyes twitched. "O-or some kind of pop reference?" His hand tapped against the bookshelves in a nervous glitch. "How is that even possible?"

Loki was beginning to shake now…was he afraid? Or was that excitement? To die without dying? What the hell did he mean? But still, this was Loki, the master of deception. For all Bruce knew, this could be some kind of an act. He didn't know what Loki was after, but he sure wasn't planning on helping him out…

Or maybe…there was a better way. Bruce Banner knew of monsters, he knew of the endless vortex that swirled in their guts. But sometimes, the best way to control that beast, is to give it what it believes it desires. A little treat to soothe its jaws.

Maybe that could work.

"Well…" Bruce began, "There have been studies of something called Ego Death."

Loki's ears perked up at Banner's words. "W-what do you mean? Ego Death…is that some form of magic?"

"It's psychology. In layman's terms, it's a fancy way of saying 'Identity Loss'. Dying without dying. You lose who you are, or used to be, and begin again."

Loki raised his eyebrow, "Like reincarnation?"

Banner tilted his head, "Kind of…but not really. It's like you're observing who you are through the eyes of an observer. Like you're a character in a story-"

Loki flinched at that word. Almost as if he were punched in the face by it. Bruce took note, and filed it away, perhaps he could use that for later.

"Something I said?" Banner asked.

Loki just shook his head, "No, it's nothing. Go on."

"You are a character in a play, and you (as an audience member observing the play) look at yourself objectively. You don't see yourself on stage and say 'Hey, that's me', you see a character and say, "Hey, that guy's a douche."

And then Loki flinched again. Shit, this was Loki? The old Loki would never have such an obvious tell. Speaking with Loki used to be like talking to a stone statue. No emotion escaped his eyes, no words past his lips without his direct, calculated allowance. Speaking to Loki now was like…talking to a frightened kid.

What was he so afraid of?

"Thank you Dr. Banner," Loki said with a slight tilt of his head, "You've been most helpful." Loki brushed the fallen dust off of his shoulder, and walked down to the east wing of the library. Bruce didn't want to leave Loki to his own devices, nothing good could come of that.

But then again, he didn't want to follow him. If he did, he'd feel like those old men who crept on college girls.

Damn it…he really wished he could get angry. Get annoyed. Get peeved, but he couldn't. He just stood there as the God of Mischief sulked out of his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters :). I got the idea from Loki: Agent of Asgard issue 6. The skull Old Loki is holding in the beginning of the issue (it's also in the previews) says "That which is call Ego Death is coming"
> 
> In philosophy and psychology "Ego Death" means the death of the active ego, or the way people see themselves. I'm a little foggy on the details (it's complex) but it's kind of like the notion of who you were (past) and who you will be (future) become irrelevant, and all that matters is now. Once your ego (or active sense of identity) is gone, you begin to understand your own nature at a higher level. 
> 
> For a lot of people it's exciting, it's like a brand new beginning. For others its terrible because they are faced with the notion of who they believed they were (or are) is no longer the case. 
> 
> When applied to Loki in this sense, it's interesting because this incarnation of Loki is doing everything he can to change. The idea of his past self (Kid Loki's death) and his future self (King Loki) haunting him become very real obstacles in his way.


	5. Clint Barton

The circus was in town, but not just any circus. The Circus of Crime…of course, that's not what they wrote on their tickets. It kind of drove away business.

Clint Barton stood in the crowd of expectant Circus goers; children holding onto their mothers' hands, clowns passing out balloons. Back when Clint worked with this circus, routine was everything. Everyone needed to know their mark, have their moves in place, and get the show done. It was the same when they were robbing people.

Know the routine, work the crowd.

When Clint quit, and moved on with the Avengers, the routine was still the same. Know your moves, know your partners moves, and get the mission done.

All routine. Safe routine.

And this time was no different. Clint had heard his old circus was in town, and Stark had told him to do a little investigating. Clint nodded, and took off that night. It was supposed to be simple, sneak in, fuck up whatever plan Ringmaster had, and then sneak out.

But there was a slight problem. All of the Circus of Crime's weak points had been barred off. Every point of entry Hawkeye had used before was effectively shut down. Basically, there was no way to infiltrate that place without having a ticket.

And Clint didn't have a ticket.

"Damn it," he said to himself, "I guess I'll have to think of something else…" He rubbed his palm against his chin, a habit he formed whenever he was nervous.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Wait…Clint knew that voice.

"I mean, I could just pop back and bring you along. It won't be any trouble." That same voice that sounded like a laugh, even when it was angry. "Are you sure? It would just be…oh…okay. I got it."

Clint looked into the crowd, and saw a young man in a green button down, with a cellphone in one hand, and a half-eaten corn dog in the other.

Loki, the God of Mischief. What the hell was he doing here? The last thing Clint needed was that One Direction knock off ruining his mission.

Loki placed his phone in his pocket, and took another bit of his corndog. It was bad enough dealing with Ringmaster, but now Loki was involved? Shit. Clint reached into pocket and rubbed his fingertips against his keys. In a worst case scenario he could simply use his car keys as a weapon…it wouldn't do much good, but it was something.

"Hey, Harry Styles," Clint called. There must have been five girls who turned around screaming "Where? Where?"

Loki looked up, his eyes filled with surprise. "Archer," he said, "What brings you here?"

Clint just scoffed, "I should be asking you that horn head." He walked forward with authority, as if he were getting ready for the fight of his life. Loki was not one to be taken lightly, even if he now resembled a boy band member. "Just what do you think you're doing here?"

Loki took another bite of his corndog. "Well, I wanted a little entertainment to take my mind off of things, and this place had great reviews on Yelp, so I thought I'd give it a try. Why?"

Clint rolled his eyes. Typical Loki, and his typical lies. When it came to him, nothing was as it seemed.

"Any way," Loki thumbed to the circus tent, "I better get going, the show's about to start." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his ticket…two tickets actually.

"And why, pray tell, do you have two? What need one for yourself and your ego?" Clint smiled at himself…that was funny.

And Loki laughed too. A strange, innocent laugh. It almost sounded like something Kate Bishop would laugh like. But that's not possible, this is Loki we're talking about.

"Actually no, I got an extra one because I was hoping to invite a friend, but she couldn't make it." He then pocketed his second ticket and headed to the tent…but then stopped. "Aren't you coming?"

And then Clint fought back shade of red filling his face. How exactly was he supposed to get in? Knocking out a guard would arouse too much suspicion. But there was no way to get quietly. Of course, Loki didn't need to know any of that.

"If you want," Loki said, "You can have my spare ticket. I mean, if you think you can stand being around me and my ego for so long."

Great, charity from a mad man. Still, this could be of use. He could get into the circus, and keep an eye on Thor's brother. Okay…this could work.

The Circus of Crime hadn't changed one bit since Clint had left. The Strongman lifted his dumbbell over his head like it was nothing. The lion tamer flicked his whip, and the crowd cheered.

Basic routine.

Clint turned to the God of Mischief who was sitting right next to him. That kid's face lit up like a fire breather's mustache. His smile reached from one cheek to the other, and when it was time to cheer, he leapt out of his seat. Every trick was met with an "Outstanding", every performance was looked on with wonder. He was acting like a five year old…it was kind of embarrassing.

Clint was even tapped on the shoulder a few times.

"Hey buddy, can you calm your kid down a little bit?" some bald guy asked.

Clint would only grunt. "He's not my kid."

"Fine, whatever" the man said, "Just shut him up."

It took all of Clint's restraint not to ram his knuckles through that guy's teeth. Still, he had a point. What exactly was Loki's problem?

"Hey, Harry Styles," Clint said, "There just tricks. Stupid tricks actually. The Hulk could figure them out."

Loki smiled and clapped his hands. The next set was coming up. "True, but have you ever just sat down and enjoyed a trick for what it is? A trick. A show. Just fun. A trick with no tricks."

What the hell was he talking about? Loki was the God of tricks and lies. Everything was a trick to him. In fact, it didn't even make sense that Loki could find entertainment in something as stupid as this. Hell, probably had seen crap that would wet Ringmaster's pants.

So…why was he so amazed at these circus performers? What was he trying to get at, besides driving everyone around him nuts?

"Jesus, what is wrong with you?" Clint asked, perhaps a little too loudly.

And Loki lowered his hands, and licked his lips…he almost seemed hurt. "That's a good question."

The only thing worse than an over excited five year old, is a sad five year old. Guess which one Loki had become? In that small instant, Loki's jovial smile had dimmed.

And Clint felt like the shit stuck to the bottom of his own shoe. Damn it…how did he do that?

"Look kid, just relax alright. Just…enjoy the show…"

Damn it, was Clint really trying to comfort Loki? Loki? The guy who tried to destroy Thor, The Avengers, and the entire world just because he was bored? The guy who could get into just about any place, in any time in any realm?

But even now, as Clint looked into this young man's—this kid's—eyes, he still had a hard time believing him to be anything other than…well, a kid.

Clint pointed out to the center stage, "Hey Look. Here comes the jugglers. You're gonna get a pretty big kick outta this. Trust me."

And it went on like that for the rest of the evening. Clint would point out new performers, tell stories about them; make stupid jokes.

And Loki would laugh, he would marvel, and he would stare in amazement at what unfolded before him. What exactly happened to this guy? Thor had told the Avengers, time after time, that Loki had been reborn. He wasn't the God he used to be…he had changed.

But there was no way that was true, even though Clint sat next to him right now, he still didn't completely buy into it.

With Loki, nothing is as it seems…right?

The final curtain call was coming, if Clint wanted to find out what Ringmaster was up to, he had to go now.

He turned to Loki, "Listen kid, I gotta take off." Clint patted Loki's shoulder. "Take it easy."

Without turning back, Clint took his leave. Perhaps turning your back on the God of Mischief was stupid. Hell, Clint knew it was stupid….but for one brief second, he had forgotten it.

A trick with no tricks. How did Loki manage that?


	6. Chapter 6

What most people don't know is that a story is a routine. A thing that is repeated over and over until time gives out. Stories are routines, cycles that trap all those who get too close.

Loki knows this. Probably better than anyone, better than Doom even. The God of Mischief reached his apartment, threw his keys onto the counter and slumped onto his couch.

His apartment. His home. His stained carpets from the All-Mother's last visit. The empty beer bottles from Thor's late night escapades. His dirty dishes from Verity's Thank You dinner, and Thank You cake. He was even hoping to take her to the circus that evening, but such plans don't always go as we wish them to.

Since the beginning, since his "birth" (if you could even call it that) Loki's one goal had been to change his story, his role, the routine he always found himself a slave to.

He glanced over to his books, borrowed from the New York library. Books of Psychology, the Id and Ego, the Superego, and the death of one's known identity, and the start of something new.

"Dying without dying."

Loki stood from his couch, and walked into his kitchen. He should cook himself something. Make use of his hands, rather than his mind. After all, can Loki really be Loki if he works to create, rather than plots to destroy?

A sudden change in a routine he had been following since before human history.

All week, he had tried to subvert his routine. He went shopping at the grocery store. He talked with Verity out in the open space of Central Park, rather than in the safe confines of his home. He went to search for knowledge in a public Midgardian library, rather than shifting through tomes back on Asgardia. He went to a hotel to relax, he went to the circus to have fun.

He had done everything he could to subvert his own routine…and somewhere deep inside of him, he knew his older-self had watched every moment of it. Ranting against every action this cheeky hero took. Laughing at every decision, every idea, and every belief that Loki could be anything other than what he was.

He was like a troll from Reddit. Worse probably.

And yet fate was laughing at him. He could feel it. Every action he took was met with disbelieving eyes of the Avengers. Tony Stark's prodding, Natasha Romanov's cold stare, Bruce Banner's nervous jitters, Steve Rogers' interruptions, and Clint Barton's tongue lashings.

All trying to pull him back to what he wanted to escape.

The same routine of Avengers and Loki, fighting and quarreling. Scheming and puzzling. One move at a time, a game that began so long ago, it seemed like it was merely a dream. But what they didn't understand was that Loki wasn't playing anymore. He refused to, and he would resist, even if the entire universe tried to force his hand.

He had made too many sacrifices.

A knock at his door.

Loki looked around, for a brief moment he had forgotten where he was.

The knock came again…louder this time.

"Alright," he called, "I'm coming."

He stomped down to the door and turned the knob. Perhaps it was Verity, coming for another slice of cake. Or perhaps it was Thor paying him a visit, maybe all of that crap on the moon had finally been resolved. He wanted to go, show a little support for his brother.

But Doom had taken up a large chunk of his time.

Loki opened the door. "Hello?"

And there, in all of his glory, stood Odin All-Father. King of…whatever the Hel it was he was king of now.

"Ah, The All-Mother said I would find you here my child."

This would mark the first time Loki and Odin had talked to each other in…years. Looking back, whenever Loki did see his father, it was through rage stained eyes, and embittered words. Not the best thing to think about when you're trying to make a fresh start.

"Father," Loki said as he moved aside, "Come in."

What exactly would bring him here at so late an hour?

"Is this about Thor?" Loki asked, "Is he alright? W-what is going on-"

"I am not here to discuss your brother my child. I am here to discuss you."

Same old Odin All-Father. The man was set in his ways. He didn't change, not just because he didn't want to, but because he saw no point in the exercise. Change was not something a man of nobility should chase after. No, to him, everything must remain as it is, consequences be damned.

Odin sat down on Loki's couch (frankly, he acted like he owned the entire apartment). "My child, we must speak." Odin patted the seat next to him, "Sit, for this discussion cannot wait."

Loki obeyed with no argument (another rebellion against his old routine). "What is it?"

"I want you to return to Asgardia. Your time on Midgard has ended."

What? Was he serious? D-did he know what he was suggesting? Returning to Asgardia…would ruin everything. All those months of fighting against fate, trying to change his story and be free of his own role, would be wasted. Why would he go back to the very place that gave rise to the monster known as Loki?

"F-father, why?" But he had to keep his cool. The old Loki would have flown off the handle, overreacted without giving anyone a say. He wanted to be better than that man, he wanted to be something new.

"Because Loki, it is time for you to return home. Time on Midgard has done you well, but now that time is over, and you must return to where you belong."

Was he out of his freaking mind? What the Hel was this? Was the entire universe just desperate to screw with him? To break him back into what he no longer wished to be?

"Father, I'm afraid I cannot return to Asgardia, not now at least."

Speak evenly. Don't rush. Keep your cool and don't overreact. Don't lose your temper; that's exactly what old Loki would have done.

"That was not a request, Loki." Odin's voice seemed to roll like coming thunder. A warning of the coming storm. "You will heed your king's orders."

Stay calm. Loki.

"Father, I'm afraid I cannot."

Defiance is exactly what old Loki would have done. Fighting Odin every step of the way, plotting his death, and scheming against him until the stars fell from the heavens. But…Loki wanted to be better than that.

But how could he? He had tried to subvert his old story, and now he was simply trapped into its old tropes. The defiant son and the strong willed father. Even in his own home, Loki was still the villain.

"Loki…do not defy me. I warn you."

"Father, I can't." Please, don't push any more. Please.

Odin, the Father of All, merely shook his head and rose from the couch. "Funny. He said. The All-Mother had told me you had changed, and seeing your actions with the Angels, your valor and courage…I even believed it for a time."

Odin's cape flowed in the breeze as he made his way to the door.

"Father, don't do this."

Don't force a return the old ways. Not this time.

"Enough my child," Odin said as he left through the door. "Your face may have grown, but you have not. You are still the same man who defied me, and all others, countless times before." Odin's one eye flashed in the hallway's light.

Loki followed…no chased, after him. Running to his father's side, trying to grab onto one last shred of change, something he could lock inside himself and carry around like a badge. He was different. He had changed.

"Father I-"

"You haven't changed at all Loki." Odin tilted his head to his side, "You never will. And whatever scheme it is you have, it will fail, just as it always does. For you are Loki…and that's all you'll ever be."

Defiance. The defiant son who brought fire down upon all who wronged him, and then some. The Loki who burned.

Could those scars ever be done away with? Was that all there was to Loki? And if so, which Loki? The child he murdered? The old man who laughed in his mirror? Or the would-be hero who now tries to defy his own fate?

Odin All-Father was gone. Without even giving Loki a chance to explain…but could he really, even if he were given the opportunity? He couldn't even explain it to himself, let alone an old man too set in his ways.

Damn it…the universe must really be laughing at him now.

He hated this feeling, this burning deep inside his chest. This flame that threatened to engulf all he was. Burning forever and ever.

Loki reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

But Loki had friends now…didn't he? Old Loki would never allow himself to feel anything beyond bitterness. Joy, love, and brotherhood were all just means to an end. But it didn't have to be like that forever…right? Wasn't that the whole point?

It was late...Verity would be asleep. He didn't want to wake her, and he had already relied too heavily on her kindness. But, the mere idea of friendship, the thought that he could rely on someone else…was a subversion of itself.

He would not return to Asgardia, and no doubt father would once again bad-mouth him to the rest of the court.

But that didn't matter…in a way, it never did.

He pocketed his phone once again, and returned to his kitchen. He turned the faucet tap, and scrubbed the dried cake batter out of his mixing bowl.

A new routine for a new Loki. A routine without routines. A destiny that he could still write. That was what he was fighting for, Asgardia be damned.

He had no idea how close, or far he was from his old role. Perhaps everything he had been doing up until now was just another cog in some scheme that would crash around him. But for now, that didn't matter.

He was Loki. Loki with friends. Loki with a brother. Loki with an apartment where he could begin again.

And for now that was enough.


End file.
